


In the Arms of loved ones

by RhymeReason



Series: After Effects [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: After Effects AU, M/M, slight sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhymeReason/pseuds/RhymeReason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dream and a reality</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Arms of loved ones

**Author's Note:**

> I really really like it when people are sick, okayy???????  
> And I love Bro :3  
> ((Sorry is so short))

            “Yo little man.” You wake up to the sound of your older brother pounding on your bedroom door. “Rise and fucking shine like the diamond you are.” Usually when he does this, you groan and tell him to go away, but today is different. Your mind feels fuzzy and your throat is sore, your tongue like sandpaper in your mouth.

            “Dave?” Bro pushed open your door and you close your eyes from the sudden light shining into your dark room. You peer at him from under your blankets which you think you need more of because you are fucking _cold._ “You look like shit.”

            It took you a moment, but you finally said something. “Feel like it.” Your voice was raspy and hoarse and it made your throat hurt even more.

            “The fuck is wrong with you?” Bro raised his eyebrows above his pointed shades and his tone shifted to as close to concern as possible for him. You didn’t try to respond, just giving  a small shrug.

            Bro leaned down and pressed a hand to you forehead before straitening up. “Youre sick.” He stated simply.

            You wanted to groan. Being sick is stupid and is for people like your best bro John, but Striders don’t get sick. How the hell did you even get sick in the first place? Its not like you ever leave the apartment or do anything that involves people. You wonder if this is a deadly decease. That would fucking suck. Death via sickness is the lamest way to go. Even now you could hear the speech at your funeral. “Dave Strider, the coolest motherfucker ever, died in the lamest way possible, and now his body shall rot in the ground forever, along with his sunglasses. Amen” There would be many tears, especially from John and Jade. Maybe Rose would even shed a single tear, just for you.

            Your thoughts are interrupted by a pair of strong arms picking you and your blankets off of your bed. You flailed your arms weakly as Bro chuckled. “Im just carrying you out to the living room, calm your tits.”

            You stop thrashing and glare at him as he sets you on the couch. You were 13 years old and he didn’t have to carry you around like a baby, even if you are sick.

            He flops down next you and turns on the TV, pulling up an older episode of Hetalia. “You need anything, little man?” he asks you.

            “Water.” You manage to rasp out with a nod of your head.

            Bro stands and comes back a minute later with a glass of water and a painkiller. You sat up the best you could and took the pill with some water. Bro took the glass and set it on a side table before reaching a thick arm out and wrapping it around you, pulling you to his chest like he always did when you were little. You feel like you are little kid, curled against your brother chest with a blanket as the two of you watch television. Its nice.

            “Anything else?” He asked, looking down at you. You shake your head, tiredness washing over you. You closed your eyes and you feel a soft kiss on your forehead. You smile as sleep over takes you.

 

           

 

When you wake up, the scratchiness of your throat is back, but the warmth of your brother has been changed to the warmth of your boyfriend as he curls next to you. Said boyfriend is looking up at you, blue eyes filled with concern. “Dave, are you okay?”

            You shake your head and rasp out a single work. “Sick.”

            John reaches out and touches his hand to your forehead, much like your Bro did in your dream/ memory thing. “Oh Dave, your burning up! I must have gotten you sick. Im so sorry!”

            He takes the comforter of the bed the wraps it around you. His arms encase you in a hug and it feels like it isn’t just the thin arms of your boyfriend around you. Bros arms are there too. The feeling of being wrapped in the arms of the people you love, even if only one of them is in the flesh.


End file.
